Wild Hyacinth, Volume 2

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Page 43 - In Love, if Love be Love, if Love be ours, Faith and unfaith can ne'er be equal powers: Unfaith in aught is want of faith in all. '"It is the little rift within the lute, That by and by will make the music mute, And ever widening slowly silence all.
Page 17 - The day is done, and the darkness Falls from the wings of Night, As a feather is wafted downward From an Eagle in his flight. I see the lights of the village Gleam through the rain and the mist, And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me That my soul cannot resist; A feeling of sadness and longing, That is not akin to pain, And resembles sorrow only As the mist resembles the rain.
Page 47 - The negligently grand, the fruitful bloom Of coming ripeness, the white city's sheen, The rolling stream, the precipice's gloom, The forest's growth, and Gothic walls between, The wild rocks shaped as they had turrets been, In mockery of man's art...
Page 198 - t; I have use for it. Go, leave me. — (Exit Emilia). I will in Cassio's lodging lose this napkin, And let him find it. Trifles, light as air, Are to the jealous confirmations strong As proofs of Holy Writ.
Page 179 - O, beware, my lord, of jealousy ; It is the green-eyed monster, which doth mock The meat it feeds on...
Page 131 - Imaginations might at all be won. And she broke out interpreting my thoughts : ' No doubt we seem a kind of monster to you ; We are used to that : • for women, up till this Cramp'd under worse than South-sea-isle taboo, Dwarfs of the gynseceum, fail so far In high desire, they know not, cannot How much their welfare is a passion to us.
Page 187 - ... agreement is expired." Perhaps, after all, it was Wordsworth's insulation of character and habitual want of sympathy with anything but the moods of his own mind that rendered him incapable of this copartnery of enthusiasm. He appears to have regarded even his sister...
Page 36 - She lighted no candle, but sat down just as she was, put her head on the table, and sobbed as if her heart would break.
Page 34 - Christian rose, and held out her hand, but she could not speak for some moments ; then, in a strange, hollow voice, she said, " I sent at once, but it was too late then.

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